To Walk That Line
by miarath
Summary: What if it had been too much for Vinnie? What if he, they had lost control? SonnyxVinnie. xx One-shot for now.


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**To Walk That Line**

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_Wiseguy AU_

_Spoilers for Marriage of Heaven and Hell / No one makes it out alive_

_I haven't seen the series since the late nineties, so bear with me. There are probably many errors there as I got only my memories and the things the net provides me._

_Oh, yes this could be considered as slash, but I don't think it really is. After all IT is canon, even if it is just implied. So, if you don't like that, don't read!_

_Oh, yeah, they are not mine, never were. Just, borrowed them for a little fun._

_So, enjoy._

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**Hellfire**

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He didn't know when everything went out of control, but it certainly was now.

It had been his fault in the first place that Patrice had that damned gun. The right thing would have been to let it play and trust on the OCB to do the rest. He knew what Frank wanted: taking down Sonny through this. Only, that would've meant letting Patrice free rein into killing Sonny. Frank wanted him to wait it out, doing the right thing. Oh, well, that was not what he had done.

No, instead he had smuggled himself inside – himself and his gun. He couldn't let Patrice kill Sonny.

Yeah, Pat had tried to kill Sonny – had almost killed him. He remembered, trying to shake off the tremble of terror at that thought. No, instead he had shot Pat. And he felt not a single bit of remorse about it. Only, he wished to have been faster, because he still could've lost him.

"Sonny," he muttered, looking down at his still form. Frantically, he reached out for his pulse and sighed in relieve when he found it – weak but still there.

Then he realised that Sid was moving strangely, He gave him a glare.

"Not one move Sid," he grumbled.

"And you'll do what?" Sid teased back, giving him a smirk.

"You don't wanna know. Believe me, you don't!" He gave Sid another glare, daring him to do something. Hell, he even wished Sid did. So, he had an excuse to shoot him.

"You now, gonna call an ambulance!" He yelled, "And better hurry!" They complied.

Well, the feds got here first. He should've known. Probably thanks to Frank McPike.

He remembered little what came after they arrived here. He remembered laud shouts - and he remembered being put into a cell again. But that was nothing new.

What had been new was the look on McPike's face. It had made him torn. He still felt torn; torn between two people. Hell, it was like he, Vincent Terranova was two people and not one man alone. But who was the real one?

After that questioning, it had been more like a trial actually, he remembers being insulted. Insults, he had ignored at first; ignored until they had involved him.

After that he knew little; still he remembered intense anger. He remembered fear into his guards eyes. Yes, he had gone ballistic then; torn by rage and fear.

He had been so afraid then.

They had put him into surgery. The waiting drove him almost insane.

He didn't see Frank; hadn't seen him watching from the door; didn't notice the deep frown on his face.

No, he didn't notice anyone back then.

That was until he heard the door being opened. He tried to struggle up, but remained on the floor. His hands and feet still were bound.

"Terranova," he heard Frank calling his name. He gazed up, as if asking what this was about - without words.

Frank McPike nodded to two men beside him. They were removing his foot shackles.

"What about these?" he asked, raising his bound hands.

Frank just shook his head. "I'm afraid they have to stay that way." Frank gave him a wary look. "You just have to understand, after what happened earlier…" he tried to explain but trailed off, realizing there wasn't any apology available that would make this better.

"_Come with me," Frank said next. It sounded like something between and offer and an order, strange._

_So, he followed Frank, having no real chance to do otherwise._

_He almost stumbled down, when he realized he had been brought to Sonny's hospital room._

He felt Frank steadying him, as he nearly stumbled down, again, being led into this room.

_What he felt then he was unable to describe. At first there was fear, fear that he was to late, then there was hope - hope and an hesitating joy of seeing him again._

_He sat beside his bed - and forgot about anything else._

"Sonny," he whispered, almost unhearable. He never wanted to see him like this. Barely alive – and still he was grateful that he was. As long there was live, there was hope. Well, at least that was what he tried to believe.

He sat down, and stayed like this for a long time. Next he knew, it was in the dead of night, he felt Sonny stirring. "Vinnie?" he heard.

"I'm here Sonny," he said in response.

"It's cold," Sonny whispered and trembled. "Hold me. Keep me warm, would you?"

_And he did. _

"_Vinnie?" _

"_Yeah?"_

"_I loved you man – still do." _

"_Yeah, love you too," he muttered in return and held him closer._

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So, what do you think?

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